Is There Such a Thing as a BAD Question?

If a question can be good, it implies a question can also be bad. So what makes for a bad question? Here’s the answer.

I often get asked what it takes to ask a good question. My answer is always the same: at a minimum, good questions are positive and open.

To be positive, a question has to be asked with good faith. You have to be sincerely curious, and asking in a way that indicates your positive regard for the other person.

Good questions are also open or wide open. A closed question gives you a binary choice: yes/no. Open questions give you a broader range of options. Wide open questions are ones where you cannot predict the answer.

• Are you happy with our consulting services? (closed)

• How do you feel about our consulting services? (open)

• What is the impact of our consulting services? (wider open)

You’re likely asking a good question if it is positive and open. From there, there are lots of different ways to improve your question quality, like by acknowledging emotions and experience or asking integrative questions.

But if some questions can be good, that implies some questions can be bad.

Bad faith questions

I’ve started a running list of qualities of bad questions, and bad faith questions in particular. This list is incomplete—in fact, I hope you’ll help me grow it by leaving a comment. How do you know a question is asked in bad faith?

Here are the most pernicious indicators of bad faith questions I’ve found so far. A question is bad if

It’s a gotcha question.

Gotcha questions are bad faith because of their motivation, which is almost always to trap someone. Often you know the answer already. You’re not really curious—you just want to put someone on the spot or expose them to critique.

Gotcha questions are abundant in politics, of course. But we’re all guilty of them from time to time.

You come home to a messy kitchen: “Who fixed lunch in here?”

Or at work, “Did you get that report submitted on time?,” when you know they didn’t and just want to call them out.

You’re asking with negative regard.

• What were you thinking?

• Whose bright idea was that?

• How much is that going to cost me?

It’s possible to ask the questions above with positive regard, but likely you heard them with venom in the voice. Those are questions often asked with negative regard, as if to imply the other person is dim-witted and acting rashly.

Any time you ask a question that is framed to indicate the other person is less than capable (in this conversation, or in life), it’s asked in bad faith.

That doesn’t mean you can’t ask difficult questions. Here are alternatives to the above questions, reframed to show positive regard (though of course, watch your tone of voice!):

• I know you gave this real thought, but I’m not following it yet. Help me understand.

• This idea is unexpected—tell me about it.

• Let’s talk about the financial implications of this option.

You don’t have the right relationship to ask.

• Are you pregnant?

• Where are you really from?

• How much money do you make?

There are certain questions we shouldn’t ask unless we have the relational intimacy that makes asking permissible. If you’re not sure if you have the strength of relationship to ask, you probably don’t.

Knowing what you have the right to ask can be difficult. What falls into the territory of the taboo varies across cultures and generations. A good rule of thumb—if you’re not sure if the question should be asked, don’t ask it.

You’re asking to enable so you can brag.

If the only reason you’re asking a question is in hope that question will also be asked of you, then it might be a bad faith question. Examples:

• Did your senior get into any Ivy league colleges?

• Were you happy with your bonus this year?

• Any fun vacation plans?

You’re asking, but you aren’t giving real choices.

Asking a question implies you’re giving someone a choice. But questions can be framed to make disagreement difficult or limit the choices. Think of the colleague who shares a controversial plan, then asks, “Don’t you agree?”

In our household, this kind of question might sound like, “Is it bad if I eat this whole pint of Ben & Jerry’s?” That may be a question with at least two possible answers, but we all know to answer, “not at all!”

You’re asking, but you aren’t listening.

We ask questions because we know we should, but then we don’t really listen.

This might be the boss who asks how a project is going, but doesn’t remember the answer. Or the parent who is trying to finish up her work day and glances up as her teen comes home from school. “How was school?” might be a sincere question, but it’s bad faith if you never look up from your email.

This goes from bad faith to even worse when we ask a question, fail to truly listen, and then make an assumption. A systemic example of this can be found in the healthcare systems who have failed to take seriously the pain or symptoms experienced (and communicated) by women, especially women of color, making an assumption that the pain or symptoms are exaggerated.

Catching bad faith questions

Asking a bad faith question now and then is a very human thing to do. But it’s not a very helpful thing. Reframe your questions to be positive and open, and then truly listen to the responses.

For those of us who lead teams or projects, we also have an opportunity to ask—where is our understanding limited because we’ve framed questions poorly, or not extended positive regard? Where have we missed an opportunity to be truly curious, and therefore to learn more? To listen well, and maybe be surprised by what we hear?

I’m sure there are more types of bad faith questions I haven’t thought of yet. What am I missing? Share your own types of bad faith questions—or share a story about one you’ve been asked.

BONUS QUESTION

Today’s bonus question is a palate cleanser that gets us back to good questions. The question is borrowed from the Moon Lists newsletter, by way of the NYT.

The question is this: Name something you miss but — if offered — you don’t actually want back.

My initial response to this question was to think of a previous job that, at its best moments, I loved. I miss the camaraderie of the team. But do I want to go back? No, not really.

What’s something you miss but don’t actually want back? Drop me a note!

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